


After the end

by Agin



Series: I should... [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agin/pseuds/Agin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard didn’t expect to survive the war.<br/>He said goodbye. He accepted death and coming back seems impossible now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking up

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve finished this series. It’s all written down and just needs to be formatted and corrected. I’ll do this as fast as possible and can promise: This time, you won’t have to wait long for the updates.  
> [Which implies: Sorry, sorry and sorry for the last times.]
> 
> I’ll change the tags when I ad new chapters.
> 
> And, as always… the errors are all mine.

When he wakes up, there’s nothing but darkness, inside and outside and it’s wearing him down and pressing him down into something - soft. Which seems strange. There should be stone.

_There should be nothing at all._

He can’t name the origin of _that_ particular thought as his mind seems to be drifting, incessantly near and – at the same moment - too elusive to be at least fractionally comprehensible.  
It’s a condition equally distressing and oddly reassuring.

He tries to remember his name and feels his head hurting and his legs and his arms and back and every nerve in his body screams with pain. It’s a sudden and merciless roar of his consciousness and once happened, he can’t go back to the simple perception of mild puzzlement.

Bathed in dark red and tearing fog he remembers being kicked and nearly beaten to death by two guys he once called “friends”. He remembers stabbing one of them with an old knife and cutting his throat and heaving with the persistent reek of blood in his nose.

It’s an old memory, jagged and rusty like the knife he had used to kill for the very first time.

That’s the one and only thing he knows for sure and while his mind finds a shaky footing between “now” and “then”, his body screams in agony and nothing actually changes.

**

They call him “Commander Shepard” and the sound of that name echoes like a composition of foreign notes inside his mind. They tell him to be patient, tell him, he’ll be all right. And as they are nurses, they claim to know about those kind of things.

He restrains himself from answering to anything at all, isn’t sure if he _could_ speak in the first place. The simple idea of opening his mouth and forming words seems unreal, just as his whole being does.

And a persistent thought takes up residence in his mind, or maybe it’s been there from the beginning.

_I should be dead._

But his body resists and starts to heal. The pain lessens and he finally, _sadly_ remembers.  
He recalls his supposedly last thought - _It will be all right._ \- and tries to rebuild the feeling of acceptance and detached peacefulness, while shoving away guilt and remorse and the list of people who died while he is _still_ alive.

It’s a fight he is bound to loose.

**

Shepard doesn’t tell anyone that his memory has returned. In fact, he still refuses to talk at all, masks it as plain disability while he actually…  
Actually he…  
He should do his best to heal fast, to get better and embrace the gift of this unexpected chance to carry on with his life.

**

The nurses and the doctor deem it necessary to calm him down, while he _is_ perfectly calm.

They tell him, his ability to speak and his memory will most likely return.  
They tell him that the war is over. Won.  
They tell him about his crew and that every single one of them survived. They don’t mention Edi, as her existence and her free mind never became popular knowledge. Shepard places her name on the list and remains silent.

**

When they allow him to eat actual food again, it tastes like cardboard.  
He wonders what the people outside this safe world of the hospital, the people who aren’t the _Great Commander Shepard_ , get to eat.

**

After some time, which Shepard doesn’t bother to measure, the doctor deems him strong enough to receive visitors.

Shepard endures it in silence and he smiles, as if he’d care, as if he’d be happy to have company again and he nods and gestures a little bit and doesn’t feel hurt when no one asks him: “Are you all right?”

They believe that he’s still without memory and they are so horribly careful, Shepard might think about screaming until his voice will be lost for good.

**

The room he is lying in is reasonably small, clean and impersonal. Against its empty walls Shepard’s mind paints images in red and black and grey and sometimes he yearns for the comforting weight of a gun in his hand, the well-known form pressing against his palm without the layers of his armor between warm skin and cold metal.

Sometimes he imagines the round and open mouth against his temple. But mostly, he is just tired and it’s too hard to care.

The nurses make him do his exercises, increasingly extensive, and while his body becomes stronger, just a little bit each day, and his muscles rebuild, every single move feels tremendously exhausting. Not so much for his body as for his mind.

“You’re quite forging ahead, Commander,” one of the nurses half jokes, half praises. She has blond hair and pale eyes and treats him with the familiarity of a person, who cares for him day after day.  
Shepard can’t even remember her name.

**

Kaidan is the last one of his crew to visit him. Shepard tries not to dwell on that fact as it doesn’t matter.

“Hey, Shepard,” the biotic says and pauses near the bed as if he’d rather be somewhere else, or do something else and quirks his half-smile. “I must admit--", he says and doesn’t go on, presses his lips into a sharp line, brushes a hand through his impeccable hair. Still impeccable.

And Shepard feels emotions swelling in his stomach and his chest and his throat, all too sudden and intense, and he swallows down – something – and forgets that he can’t speak and doesn’t remember.

“Kaidan,” Shepard rasps with a voice raw and unstable with disuse and the light in the other man’s eyes is too much, forces Shepard to stare at the opposite wall, into the emptiness and breathe calm and regular. In and out and in and out and…

“So, you, uhm – You _do_ remember? Since – Did it just…? How much --," Kaidan stammers, which seems to be strangely out of character while Shepard can’t think of anything else but strong and sure hands, firm and gentle touches and he _wants_ and he _can’t_.

Shepard’s voice doesn’t waver, when he answers aborted questions: “Yes, I remember. My memory came back pretty soon. And, yes, obviously I can speak.” He continues breathing and adds – not quite sure what he refers to: “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Part of him would like to reach for Kaidan, pull him near and drown in his scent and his touch and his voice and feel his heart beating. Still alive -both of them but just one is meant to be.

After their night full of passion and words no one should ever have spoken, Shepard had made Kaidan leave and later he’d said goodbye. Dying and accepting and finally at peace with his fate he said goodbye and now – now Shepard realizes the impossibility of reaching out. The wall between himself and life has become impenetrable. He may be breathing and moving and looking at the world through human eyes but that’s an illusion. It doesn’t feel _real_.

A supposedly disturbing revelation yet Shepard experiences merely relief.

“Thanks for your visit, Major,” he says. “I appreciate your concern.”

“Goodbye, Major Alenko,” he adds, when the other man finally leaves his room, the light in the biotics eyes once again extinct. But it’s not Shepard’s part to renew the spark.

It has never been.


	2. Do you think of him?

Shepard’s body heals until nothing remains but a twinge in his leg time and again and a slight stiffness in his left elbow joint.

It’s almost one year after the war and Shepard inhabits a small apartment in Vancouver. He has neighbors with whom he meets now and then, he has a plant standing on his window sill and sometimes he even remembers to water it.  
He makes jokes about having more implants under his skin than human tissue and about being the last self-conscious machine in the whole universe.

Momentarily released from duty – since his recovery in hospital and ongoing – he spends his days doing nothing at all, sits in his apartment and stares at the wall, takes a walk through the nearby park or the slowly dissipating rubble beneath a new rising city.  
He walks through rotting slums and through slightly better looking camps full of people who have lost everything but their lives and sometimes their hope.

Shepard could join the voluntary workers. With distant despise he thinks about the payment he still receives – even though it’s more luncheon voucher than money these days – and knows, that he should _do_ something, anything, to earn it.

He could demand to resume his duty as soldier and likewise help rebuilding this city, any city, or fight against increasing crime and riots all over the world. No one would actually turn him down as help is needed everywhere and they just don’t approach him because he is _Commander Shepard_ who _saved the world_.

If he were able to experience emotions beneath the all-encompassing numbness, he’d wholeheartedly hate his status.

**

“Loco!” a demanding voice breaches the eerie silence which accompanies Shepard, surrounds him and only him even on a busy day on the streets of Vancouver.  
Vega is one of two former squad members who stayed nearby and Shepard doesn’t think about the second one.

He nods and says: “James,” creating the illusion of familiarity.

This evening, just before curfew, they have an exorbitantly expensive drink in a shady bar near Shepard’s apartment and Vega is cheeky as usual and loud and speaks a lot about Cortez, with whom he talks and writes at every opportunity.

They should be working together again, Shepard suggests and Vega laughs in an attempt of lightness. “Don’t always get what you want, eh?” he says. A few weeks later he leaves Vancouver for a short mission from which he doesn’t return.

Shepard tries to cry for him, tries to mourn and maybe he does but he can’t feel it.

**

He badly misses Garrus and his easy company and snide comments. That much he can admit to himself.

**

Some day Shepard’s neighbor Garry – actually named _Gerald_ but also blessed with the ability to turn anything remotely interesting into something boringly common – decides to host a barbecue on his roof deck.  
There’ll be adequate space and even if his place were narrow and cramped it wouldn’t change anything. A party like that in the open and unconfined space of the park is not advisable these days.

“I want all my friends to come by and if we’ll pool our rations we can combine some stuff and have a nice meal. Just like old times.” The bald and once corpulent man beams like a child facing a huge pile of birthday presents and Shepard doesn’t have it in him to refuse the invitation.

He brings some meat, which is highly appreciated and stays otherwise in the background, which is sullenly accepted and the party doesn’t pass off as bad as apprehended.

Until it becomes decidedly worse.

Shepard just starts to partially relax into an old, battered, wooden chair, when two new guests arrive. One of them is Kaidan and the other an equally handsome, young man, with a blond, curly head and big, brown eyes, prominent cheekbones and much too close-fitting trousers, revealing an athletic body.  
He is trailing uncomfortably near behind the biotic.

That’s the one and only warning Shepard receives - which doesn’t prepare him for the sight of the young man slipping a possessive arm around Kaidans waist, doesn’t prepare him in the slightest for the sight of Kaidan smiling at said young man and planting a chaste kiss on extravagantly curved lips.

Shepard hasn’t seen the biotic for nearly six months now and their last meeting consisted of a curt greeting and some awkward words, said, because they needed to say _something_.  
He knows that Kaidan leads a squad of biotics, has young and untrained ones as well as battle-tested soldiers under his command. James has told him, when they met the last time. Told him although Shepard didn’t ask for information, has rather done his very best to avoid thinking of the man.

Being faced with him now, is…

Is…

Is like freezing and burning at the same time. His head hurts and his stomach lurches and his ability to simply _breathe_ seems lost.  
It’s the strongest emotional reaction Shepard has experienced since a very long time, cutting right through the numbness. And he tries to relax, sprawls on the wooden chair as much as it allows sprawling and forces a mask of impassiveness on his face, feverishly hoping that no one had noticed his moment of weakness.

Luckily, all eyes are directed elsewhere, as Shepard’s attempt to melt with the furniture seems to develop quite successfully.

That is – until Kaidan says: “Hey, Shepard,” in such a well-known and achingly familiar way that Shepard nearly leaps up and does something utterly foolish like hugging the man. But his self-control doesn’t snap – or it’s his by now established lethargy taking over - and he just nods, curtly.

“Alenko”, he answers and is astonished by the calmness underlying his voice.

For a fleeting moment he experiences a flash of _something_ and he sees images of things that had been and things that could have been, feels whiskey on his tongue and touches on his skin and maybe… But no. Shepard shakes his head internally, shakes his mind.

**

Later, when the young and handsome man, who came with Kaidan, intends to engage Shepard in conversation, he doesn’t resist. And when said man, Tomin, peers coyly at him under long and plenteous lashes, he returns the look.

Kaidan is occupied with Garry, allows to be dragged from one party guest to another, allows to be showed off as talented biotic and war hero and whatever.

Allows what Shepard would’t.

Tomin says: “I’m so _exited_ to meet you in person. Finally. You… That’s-- You’re even more… _So much more_. I mean, not that I ever thought you’d be less than… uhm--“ The young man blushes deeply and is akin to an adorable, helpless pup.

Shepard wonders what Kaidan could possibly see in this guy – until Tomin licks his lips and smiles in an utterly lascivious way, far from boyish or puppy-like. Suddenly he doesn’t seem that young anymore but like a man who knows what he wants and knows how to get it.

That’s the moment to tell him off, friendly, unobtrusively – to cause no scene – but nonetheless with unmistakable severity.

To get up, accompanied by an intense gaze, and stroll inside, through the apartment and out into the empty corridor would be rather ill-advised and inappropriate.

Shepard should…

But leaning against the wall next to the entrance door, he doesn’t reflect on his action or looming consequences or anything at all. He waits.  
And just some moments later the door opens and closes without actually closing so they can go back inside without attracting attention, and Tomin is standing in front of him. Maybe a little bit too soon to be unsuspicious. Hopefully no one paid attention.

But to be true - Shepard doesn’t have it in him to care. Same as he doesn’t care that they are in a public corridor and could be interrupted by unsuspecting tenants or guests at any moment.

Tomin places his hands on either side of Shepard’s head. The young man is pretty tall. Still, Shepard doesn’t lift his gaze but stares at the bobbing Adam’s apple. It’s a nice one. Not too big but nonetheless enticingly masculine.

“I like your lips,” Tomin rasps and _Kaidan_ would have put a strong hand under Shepard’s jaw by now and forced him to look up.

“What about Alenko’s lips?” Shepard asks without conscious decision.

“Don’t rack your brain about _him_ now.”

All of a sudden Tomin’s mouth is on his neck.  
First, the young man kisses, which feels good and draws a pleased hum from Shepard. Then the man starts to suck and that feels _very_ good and Shepard buries his right hand into blond and curly hair. It’s silky, cuddly and Shepard nearly moans. He has to force himself to pull the other man’s head back and not hold him close.

“No visible marks,” he says and puts some steel into his voice.

Tomin’s eyes widen for the fraction of a breathless moment. He presses his head against Shepard’s hand and licks his lips – unconsciously this time which makes the gesture unbearably enticing.

Almost too enticing.

Almost.

“Please”, Tomin all but sighs. “I want to kiss you.” He still doesn’t make a move to take what he yearns for, follows the implied lead of Shepard’s grip. Naturally.  
Kaidan likes to be in charge when it’s about sex, doesn’t he? It perfectly suggests itself that he’d choose a partner who fits his needs.

A partner… Is Tomin actually _that_ for Kaidan? Cheating on him so easily? Or is it just casual? Nothing serious? But the possessive arm around Kaidan’s waist, the smile, the chaste yet affectionate kiss…

Shepard simply knows. Deep down he does and more to the surface he does, too.

“ _Please_ ”, Tomin begs again and pulls Shepard out of his head.

“No”, he says sternly.

“But –“

“No. Kissing.”

Tomin opens his mouth again and Shepard intensifies his grip, makes the other man moan – in pain or arousal or both – and forces his head further back. “Shut up,” he hisses. Not attempting to serve Tomin’s needs, but his own.  
He can’t – just can’t bear hearing the other man’s voice or words, his own body torn between pushing away and punching – maybe even himself – and kissing hard and deep and consuming. He wants and he doesn’t want.

Shepard pulls at Tomin’s hair again, bares and stretches his throat to a point which _must_ be painful.

Tomin doesn’t struggle in the slightest, though, releases another, strangled, moan and some part of Shepard wishes he’d fight him off or bring him to his knees. Which won’t happen. Which Shepard wouldn’t _allow_ to happen. Instead he lets Tomin go. Just to grab his shoulders and push down.

Instantly, the young man becomes pliant, drops until his knees hit the ground. He gazes up, waiting, but Shepard won’t meet his eyes, stares pointedly at the other man’s mouth.

“You know what I want you to do,” he says.

“Yes.” Tomin’s voice is hardly more than a whisper.

“So, what are you waiting for?”

It’s been a long time since another person touched Shepard. Regardless – feeling Tomin’s hands on the zip of his trousers, feeling the act of being bared while another person’s breath finally grazes his skin, warm and promising, only to be replaced by the immediate touch of skin to skin, isn’t as relieving and intense as Shepard had imagined.  
His arousal is undeniable, straining for more and pooling in the pit of his stomach and tensing his muscles. It should be all-encompassing, it should be enough.

But it isn’t.

He feels like standing at the edge of an abyss. He wants to take the last step, wants to fall, wants to let go.  
It’s impossible, though. He won’t do it and while he comes down Tomin’s throat, his lips pressed into a sharp line to hold his moans inside, he closes his eyes and shuts down his mind, ignores the sick feeling in his stomach and the acrid taste of bile at the back of his throat.

He leaves after that, orders Tomin to finish himself off when he’s alone – the young man complies happily – and goes back inside.

Later, Tomin kisses Kaidan and calls him “darling”. Shepard goes home after that.

**

Three weeks later Tomin is laying on his back. His legs are bouncing in the air while Shepard fucks him hard and deep.

“Spread for me,” he’d said earlier and Tomin did.

Shepard pulls out and turns the other man onto his stomach, sees sweat pooling at the small of his back. There’s a small dip, begging to be licked. Instead Shepard digs his fingers into the firm flesh of the young man’s ass, pulls the lush cheeks apart and shoves back in.

Tomin cries out and whimpers and writhes beneath him, arches his back to take him even deeper.

He’s always so eager.

Shepard wasn’t the one to renew their contact. He didn’t welcome Tomin warmly, didn’t like to see him in his apartment. Nevertheless – he let him in, several times, and fucked him on the floor and in the kitchen, on the dining table and against the wall, thrice, on the sofa and over the back of the sofa, on a chair, in the basement one time and now in his bed.

The latter is the strangest and Shepard wishes he’d just done it on the floor again. He contemplates hurling Tomin to the ground. He’d certainly like it, being manhandled around the apartment, rough and ruthless.

But then the young man shoves his own hand underneath his body and moments later he cries out a last time and clenches almost brutally around Shepard’s cock and it’s over anyway.

**

“Do you think of him while you fuck me?” Tomin asks on a rainy Monday and Shepard pretends not to know what he’s hinting at.

He shoves his cock into the other man’s mouth to shut him up.

**

“I think he knows,” Tomin says another time.

Shepard doesn’t ask: “Are you still together?” because it’s unnecessary and he’d never ask, anyway. But he knows that the answer would have been: “Yes.”


	3. Shut up already

Garrus is in town. He hasn’t left earth, obviously, and asks Shepard to meet up and they do.

Garrus doesn’t ask: “How have you been?”

And Shepard is thankful and a tension he hadn’t noticed, leaves his body and his mind. He manages some sarcastic jokes and laughs when Garrus does the same.

He is actually enjoying himself.

When Garrus leaves, he promises to visit Shepard again – maybe in eight or nine months if possible. Maybe later.

**

After Garrus has left, Shepard calls Tomin.

“Curfew is near,” the young man reminds him. “If I come now, I’ll have to stay until tomorrow.” He falters, breathes deep and audible for a moment and finally ads: “Would you like me to?” He sounds hopeful yet resigned.

And Shepard doesn’t want him to stay. He wants to pound into a compliant, warm hole – nothing more, nothing less. That’s what he should tell him. The truth. Because it’s cruel not to be honest at that point.

The hopeful timbre in Tomin’s voice reverberates in his mind when he says: “Right. Come over then.”

**

Shepard waits for him at his door, pulls the man forcefully inside and rips his shirt apart, buttons popping and flying and getting lost.

“Hey, you want me to go home naked?” Tomin half protests and half moans.

“Shut up,” Shepard snarls and tries to rip the cloth trousers as well. They are surprisingly resistant but, in the clutches of sudden anger, he manages to rip the backside and the fact that Tomin’s not wearing pants is just goddamn convenient.

Using all his force, Shepard pushes Tomin to the ground, face down, and opens his own trousers to free his cock. He’s only half-hard but a few rough strokes chance that pretty fast.

“Uhm, John,” Tomin braces his forearms against the floor. He has formed an annoying habit of calling Shepard by his first name, even if he has no right to do so.

“Did I allow you to speak?” Shepard growls and places a strong hand onto the man’s neck, pushes him down again. “Stay like that,” he orders. “And put your hands on the floor. _Don’t_ move. And don’t say a word or I’ll have to gag you.”

He feels no desire to follow through with his threat but the idea of someone gagging _him_ is suddenly vivid in his mind and he moans without conscious thought. His cock twitches in his hand and to avoid thinking, to push away his unwelcome fantasies, he pulls Tomin’s bared buttocks apart and spits, pushes the inadequate lubricant into the young man’s quivering hole.

“Hell!” Tomin groans. And then he hisses. “Yesss…” the word drawn-out until it dissolves to nothing.

Shepard puts his free hand over the man’s mouth. “I did warn you!” And he adds a second finger into the tight hole.  
“You should be thankful that I’m preparing you at all.” He licks a broad stripe over Tomin’s neck, would have bitten down, but doesn’t want to leave such obvious marks.

A chilly air draft grazes his own, sweat soaked neck like a soft breath on hot skin and his mind supplies the impression of a dark and velvet voice, whispering into his ear.

_Relax, love. Come on, you can do it. Relax, or it’ll hurt when I fuck you._

Shepard groans, arches his back against nothing. He spits again and adds a third finger, while the voice in his mind carries on.

_Do you want me to prepare you at all? Oh no, I think you don’t. You’d love to take me just like that, to feel like your greedy, little hole is torn apart, struggling to open up for my cock while I’d push deeper and deeper and you’d be unable to fight me off._

Shepard closes his eyes, feeling a hotness on his cheeks and his neck which follows from shame and embarrassment. His thoughts are just… He tries to shove them away.

_Don’t hide yourself, love. It’s alright. You are allowed to surrender. I already told you so. Just say that you want me to fuck you. To hold you down with my hands and legs and my biotics and force my cock into your body and enter you again and again until you beg for mercy without meaning it and I won’t stop. Tell me, what do you want?_

“Shut up!” Shepard shouts and startles himself as well as Tomin and he feels the young man’s mouth move against his palm and releases him. “Not a single word,” he repeats and Tomin complies.

Shepard spits on his cock, makes it as wet as possible and presses the head between Tomin’s buttocks. “Relax,” he says and winces at the familiarity of the order.  
Finally sliding in, he concentrates on the warmth and the tightness and the slight pull caused by the insufficient lubrication. Tomin pants and moans beneath him and obviously enjoys himself. Best to follow his lead in that case.

**

They are lying side by side on the floor of Shepard’s apartment when Tomin says: “You do realize, that you said his name? You came and you moaned: _Kaidan_.”

Shepard’s breath catches. He opens his mouth to say _something_. Anything. But he’s at a loss of words. That’s just…

Tomin waits and waits and adds – just like an afterthought: “Which is kind of funny. As _he_ did the same with your name.”

And when Shepard was stunned before, he is beyond any discernible thought and reason now.  
Tomin on the other hand continues with a trace of bitterness in his voice: “I’m just the invisible man in between, am I?”

As far as Shepard’s concerned, Tomin is right. Sadly, unfairly but true.

“You cheated on your partner. Do you really expect me to feel sympathy for you?” he states sternly, nonetheless, feels the sudden need to hurt Tomin. Guilty conscience aside, that accusation is true, either.

And Shepard doesn’t intend to show weakness, doesn’t intend to feel bad because of his part in the game. He managed well so far and he isn’t responsible for Tomin’s wellbeing and he won’t –

Won’t allow - _He_ isn’t the one who cheated on Kaidan. No way. The notion alone is ridiculous.

Shepard glances down his body, his now soft cock still hanging out of his trousers. He sighs and puts himself away, averting his eyes from the distinct stain on the other man’s trousers, ripped apart on the back and still chastely closed at the front.

He gets up wordlessly and fetches a blanket, preparing his sofa for Tomin to sleep on.

The young man doesn’t object, doesn’t ask to spend the night in Shepard’s bed. They part in silence with a finality as if they wouldn’t be forced to see each other the next day.

**

This night Shepard wakes up with a hot mouth around his cock. He has hardly time to comprehend before orgasm overruns him mercilessly.

“You may not want me, but you _want_ me,” Tomin says, his features hardly distinguishable in the darkness of the night. He doesn’t wait for Shepard to recover and get a grip on the situation but leaves the bedroom, the door shutting with a silent click.

The next day he leaves as early as possible, wearing Shepard’s oldest trousers and one of his shirts – legs and arms too short, but there’s hardly a choice.


	4. Still alive

One week later, walking through Vancouver aimlessly, Shepard happens to come across Kaidan.

His first impulse is to keep on walking and fake ignorance, act as if his heart wouldn’t skip a beat every time he thinks of the biotic, as if he wouldn’t drown in guilt this very moment, as if he wouldn’t hear an incessant voice inside his head, repeating: _He thinks of you during sex. He said your name. Moaned your name. That’s good. And it isn’t. It’s awful. Admit to it – you want more than him thinking of you only during sex. Don’t you?_. Keep on walking as if he hadn’t recognized the other man.

Which is ridiculous, of course, as Shepard is standing right in front of him and staring imbecilic just now.  
So he swallows and nods and says: “Alenko.”

“Shepard.” There is no trace of the former warmth left – a silent warmth which Shepard only notices by its absence - and the biotics eyes are cold and closed off.

Kaidan starts to move on and Shepard should be relieved by that. Just – he isn’t. “Major,” he says and ads: “Kaidan,” stupidly, before he can get a grip.

And the biotic pauses. “What is it now, Commander? What do you want?” He obviously decides to ignore Shepards slip, the sudden intimacy.

“I’m no Commander, anymore.” Shepard instinctively takes a step backwards and trips over a stone, nearly losing his balance.

“Well, we both know that’s not true. You may not be working anymore. You still aren’t, right? But your rank isn’t lost. You aren’t discharged. I would’ve heard of that.”

From somewhere nearby sounds happy laughter and Shepard notices that he is fumbling with the skin next to his thumb nail. He growls, straightens his hand, curls it into a fist, loosens it again.  
“But you think I should be discharged.”  
Of course Kaidan does. The biotic has always been dutiful. He can’t possibly accept Shepard’s new lifestyle. His new and hateful lifestyle. But, asides from that, why should Shepard _care_ about Kaidan’s opinion?

The biotics forehead is wrinkled, his otherwise lush and perfect mouth a pinched line. “I never said anything like that.”

“But you --“

“ _Regardless_ ,” Kaidan cuts him short. “What I think or don’t think on that matter is hardly relevant. So, _Commander_ , tell me again. What. Do. You. Want?”

And there it is. The confrontation Shepard had been afraid of. Or hadn’t been afraid of because he’d avoided thinking about it. But _now_ \-- Avoidance is impossible all of a sudden.  
Or maybe there is no need to worry. Maybe he’s afraid of the completely wrong thing? Which would be… What?  
And what --?

_What do you want?_

The question reverberates like a ball pouncing in an empty hall – lonely and senseless and maybe, possibly not without reason, but no one will ever ask _why_ because the hall is empty and the doors are closed and what could he possibly want and he knows and he feels - _you_ \- and everything seems so far and he thinks _sorry_ and _please_ until his head spins and spins and spins and --

Shepard tries to breathe steadily, tries to breathe at all but his throat cramps and his lungs hurt and then he is breathing too fast. “You know,” his mouth asserts. His fingertips prickle and his sight becomes restricted and much too bright.

“Would you care to specify this?” Kaidan is too polite, too calm.

“No, I goddamn would not,” Shepard growls, still trying to breathe properly, his confusion mingling with anger. And then he does specify anyhow, clings to the one thing he can grasp even if it’s bad. But he needs --  
“Tomin told you --“ That’s as far as he gets before the world tilts and his knees buckle.

Everything becomes blurred and white like clinging fog and the next thing Shepard knows is the feel of strong arms around his chest and a calming voice in his ear telling him how to breathe. He closes his eyes and follows the lead, allows himself to gloat a little bit. Just- Just a little bit.

**

It’s hard to accept reality again and for a tiny moment Shepard thinks about the possibility to float forever, to finally make an end. Then he detaches himself from that particular thought as well as from Kaidan’s arms and sits on his own. He doesn’t feel steady enough to stand up yet.

Kaidan remains crouched down beside him, their silence intensified by the noises around them. Voices and sounds of work and effort and life. Shepard can barely bear it.

Finally, Kaidan speaks: “He did. Tomin confessed and told me about your affair. But, I think I already knew. Suspected. Not that it’s been you, though. That gave me quite a surprise.”

“And --“ Shepard doesn’t meet Kaidans eyes. “Have you…?”

“We ended our relationship.”

“Okay, so… I’m… I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. You aren’t the one I set my hopes on.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Shepard does his very best to hide the sudden coldness, cutting through his body and tearing his insides apart. If he fails, Kaidan doesn’t comment on it.

_What now?_ The thought is loud inside Shepard’s head – and then does something reckless. Even before his mind realizes what is about to happen, what his own body does without conscious decision, he grasps the collar of Kaidan’s shirt, leans forward and kisses him.

It’s chaste and awkward and over too soon but suddenly a lost part of Shepard falls into place. Emotions fight numbness, and confusion and fear are going berserk but at the same time he feels settled. Resolved.

His hands still clenched in Kaidan’s collar, Shepard closes his eyes and says: “Would you go out for a drink with me?” His heart threatens to burst his chest and while he didn’t realize before, didn’t _allow_ himself to realize how badly he wants Kaidan at his side, the knowledge is now so clear and obvious he could scream and could cry. Maybe he does the latter.

He had accepted death, sacrificed his life and any notion of an own future for the sake of victory. And he had been _so sure_ to find his end but now he is still alive. Against all odds.

_Alive, even if I don’t want to be. Breathing. And do I actually want to stop?_  
 _Would it be so bad if I’d try …?_

The war is over and he hates being Commander Shepard. Hates it and hates it and _hates_ it but --

_Maybe… I could stop? Not being alive but living as The Commander. Stop trying and just do it?_

A tentative thought grows inside Shepard, fueled with anger and fear and confusion and – hope – and the thought paints an image he can’t see but taste on his tongue and feel in his muscles and on his skin.

He isn’t bound to his duty any more, has suffered and has sacrificed so much and now --  
He _has_ a future. He could forget Commander Shepard, or at least allow him to step back and let _John_ take the lead.

A second voice speaks up, growls, screams, whispers and jeers and it says: “You can’t. You won’t. You don’t earn a life. You failed so many persons who relied on you.  
And, by the way, you will always be alone. Don’t try to change it. You’ll only suffer more. Or do it, because you _should_ suffer and suffer and never stop suffering until you die. Or better – you should die already!”

Shepard’s eyes are still closed and behind his lids he sees the sunlight and vivid dots dancing in his blind view.

And he tinks: _Stop!_

It’s one word, one internal cry and not in the slightest as loud and intense as the mean voice inside his head. One word, but a new one. A beginning. A change.

And Shepard --

No. _John_ opens his eyes and then he feels Kaidan’s hands on his own – his heart leaps – and the biotic peels John’s fingers away from the collar, pulls back. Sighs.

Kaidan’s voice is determined when he says: “I don’t think so.”

John hears him getting up, sees him, hears his words before he leaves: “Goodbye, Shepard.”  
An ugly echo of words once spoken into the silence of a hospital room.

**

When he asks for Kaidan a few days later, hoping against hope, they tell him that he’s on a voluntary mission and most certainly won’t return to Vancouver. His current whereabouts - strictly confidential.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry – This isn’t the end. (It should have been, actually. A happy end, furthermore, but Kaidan resisted vehemently.)
> 
> So… next and last part’s coming soon.
> 
> (By the way – I’m just listening to John Morrison while he’s singing: “This is the end” which is… ok, sorry… irrelevant but kind of funny.)


End file.
